My Gifts to Society

"I've had my faults as a parent, but I think the best thing I ever did was give unconditional love to each of you. I'm so proud of all of you - Walt, Marty, Murray, Hazel, Sydney - all of you are caring people who give of yourselves to others. You are my gifts to society." Mom wrote this to us in an email about a month before Murray died. She's right. Many parents think they love their children unconditionally, but they don't always act like it. Loving your child unconditionally means loving him when he makes you proud and when he makes you cry. It means loving him when he builds you a box to keep your treasures in it and it means loving him when he punches holes in your basement walls during drunken arguments. Unconditional love is weird. It feels like rewarding bad behavior. But the truth is, what my mom figured out long ago, is that you really can't control other people. You can guide your children. You can set a good example for them. You can tell them you think what they did was wrong or give them a better way to do it next time. But if you punish or avoid your children when they don't act the way you want them to, you're sending a message to them that you only care about them when they act the way you want them to. This is a lesson I learned as Murray was dying. All these people from his past, friends and family, came around to see him and let him know how much he means to them. Not once did anyone say anything remotely judgmental. Here was a dying man, dark yellow and swollen, grimacing in pain when he leaned over to ash his unfiltered camel and grab a swig from the pint of Hot Damn next to his bed. But everyone there was happy to see him while they could. Listening to his stories, laughing about "remember that one time..." No one said, "Hey, this is your fault. You're killing yourself. I can't love you until you quit drinking." Hazel even got their dad to come visit Murray. Hazel was three and Murray was four when their dad divorced my mom and married his secretary, then repeated the cycle until he's now on wife five I believe. But Hazel who follows Jesus' lead of forgiveness contacted their dad, picked him up from the airport and made sure he saw his son for the last time. That's unconditional love. Hazel might think Murray should turn his life over to Christ and quit destroying his liver with alcohol, but she loves him so unconditionally that she made sure he dies in peace with no hard feelings toward anyone. It's kind of hard for me to write this story because I don't want to hurt my mom's feelings. I don't wnat for her to feel guilt when I have none for her to dwell upon. So you know what? She emails me, "Sydney, don't worry about what you're writing. You're diplomatic. You speak from your heart. But if I can pick a name, please call me Sadie. Love, Mom." Unconditional love means loving someone despite your differences. When you absolutely don't understand a person but care about them anyway. And when you even encourage them in the thing it is that makes them unique, even when it's not something you value. That's how I feel my mom treats me. She certainly didn't understand me. But she encouraged me to be who I am, and she especially encouraged me to write about who I am because she knows that even though it's not her thing, it's tremendously therapeutic to me. Sometimes our styles didn't match. But here I am now, and I'm ok. Mom likes to avoid negative feelings and I like to obssess over them. Mom likes to plan the future and I like to bring up the past. Mom's stoic and I overshare. Mom is concerned about etiquette and I like to break rules. Mom was an imperfect parent just as I was an imperfect child. But love has nothing to do with perfection, so she is just right for me. Love exists in spite of ourselves.